


Snack Hole: Event Horizon

by CommonSenseisPaineful



Series: Batflash Oneshots [1]
Category: Justice League (2017)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, but seriously crepes are so good, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonSenseisPaineful/pseuds/CommonSenseisPaineful
Summary: ‘...that also implies he should refer to everything else Bruce uses as a ‘Bat-thing’. Bat-running machine? Bat-mini fridge on the Bat-Plane?’Barry Allen’s blood sugar should concern him much more than it does, after all, what happens when an engine runs out of fuel?Well, a point of no return.A fic in which Barry is trying too hard to be a superhero, and Bruce is quite literally a sugar daddy.





	Snack Hole: Event Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Not to lie, but watching Justice League made me ship them far beyond the healthy amount. Ezra Miller is the reason why sun shines through my windows in the morning. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much helpful, I’ve taken a long hiatus due to studies, so to have feedback would definitely speed up a future update.

Maybe twelve hours is a long time without a snack break.

Barry recalled a sticky sugary donut, its icing stuck to the lid of the box so when it opened it left a glaze of sugar behind. And quite possibly an energy drink he had nabbed from the planes mini-fridge on the ride over- should he start calling it the Bat-Plane? Because yes, it was owned by Batman and used for quote unquote “Batman Activites”, but that also implies he should refer to everything else Bruce uses as a ‘Bat-thing’. Bat-running machine? Bat-mini fridge on the Bat-Plane?

Barry’s mind was spinning into tangents, an endless loop of unanswered questions fuelled from his low blood sugar. The growl of his stomach was enough to snap his mind out of the puzzle, blinking in the fluorescent light of the alley. 

The League weren’t technically on a mission, more of a scouting operation in nearby cities to Gotham and Metropolis- keeping your enemies closer and all that. Clark was protecting over both cities, enough to keep the Kryptonian busy for the night. Victor was running surveillance from the Batcave- again with the bat named things? Diana was probably being a goddess somewhere, Barry recalled Batman suggesting she search the north of the area, him taking the south. 

This left Barry to run from east to west, zipping through the streets and searching for some sign of wrongdoings. So far a yowl of a dumpster diving cat had caused him to trip, and the crunch of broken bottles underfoot had rung through his ears unpleasantly, but nothing else. At this speed, everything was almost frozen; he could count the individual hairs on the hat as it raised its back before it uttered a single hiss. The thin spitting rain was like tiny diamonds reflecting in the sky. Yet simultaneously everything was so fast. Barry’s mind raced from one possibility to the next, ruling out street by street- watching every dark corner for what to everyone else seemed like a fraction of a second but to him an eternity. It was like a motor trying to push through swamp water- black and viscous, jamming the blades as they spun- but the engine itself kept on winding and winding until it was red hot.

Barry rested under a lamppost, closing his eyes against the strain of the blinding light and pitch darkness. His chest heaved under the red plating of the suit, a little too tight as he had rushed in putting it on so it rushed his ribs as he exhaled. Barry rushed everything, well, everything that mattered. Rushing through school, from one dead end job to another, from empty warehouse to crumbling flat- that was until he became part of the league. Bruce was kind- generous even, despite the initial hostility and coldness. Behind the cowl Bruce Wayne was indifferently nurturing, only giving a sideways glance when Barry complained to Victor how the one pillow in his room was bracing his neck at a strange angle when he slept. Yet when Barry returned to his room that night he found at least eleven types of pillows stacked on his bed, like he was supposed to choose (And seriously goose down pillows were IT. Barry hadn’t felt that stinging ache in his neck since he first slept on it.) Bruce was complicated, moreso than the rest he had figured, like a reclusive creature finally learning how to coexist with others, tentative, kinda like a cat. Like the old, grumpy cat he used to see when he walked to school actually, with thick curly grey fur and mean eyes that hissed-

Barry shook his head, the edges of his vision beginning to blur in a ‘blood sugar critically low’ kind of way. There were still eighteen more streets to cover, half the other side of the town. Barry couldn’t let down the league just because he was peckish, well more like starving for any kinda or sugary, fatty substance but his point still stood. He could do this. Barry stretched, the lines in the road overlapping like ghosts as his vision shook. He could do this, he muttered to himself, bracing himself for a run. He sprinted, take one step after another, the world around him slowing into an almost standstill. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed something in the shadows sweeping past him- jolting his head around he swam in disorientation form the sudden jerk, feeling his feet trip and body began to fall and-

He was caught by someone.

Blinking back into reality, Barry first noticed the strong grip around his waist and shoulders- like someone had restrained him. Secondly, everything looked black, not in the darkness way but more in the sense of fashion way and-

Barry’s eyes widened,

“Oops.”

Batman stared down at Barry, his expression difficult to read under the mask. He definitely wasn’t smiling though.

“Are you alright?”

Barry looked up at Bruce wide eyed, blinking in the spitting rain. He looked remarkably unfazed, but concerned maybe? The five o clock shadow around his chin was distracting, Barry couldn’t quite focus on anything but the shadow around his lips.

“Barry?”

Barry coughed nervously, and in a flash of electricity was standing next to Batman, shifting from one foot to another.

“Whoops, sorry there. Didn’t mean to- well glad you caught me but I guess I’ll... be off?”

Barry was rambling, foot meet mouth kind of rambling as his brain rapidly tried to keep up with what had just happened. It didn’t help that the fogginess of hunger lurked around his mind, but it seemed in his best interests to dash off and pretend to finish scouting whilst secretly freaking out before he not so secretly panicked in front of Batman. The Batman- Bruce Wayne, practically one of the most, no the most attractive-

“You could have fallen hard there, what made you trip?”

Bruce surveyed Barry from head to toe, it would be inappropriate if he were not checking him for scrapes and slashes in the suit- of which there were many. Yet Barry still shivered under the attention.

“I wasn’t focused. I know I should have been, but” Barry paused, he couldn’t admit to being tired and hungry- what sort of superhero is stopped by an empty stomach? He didn’t need Bruce thinking he couldn’t look after himself, let alone others.

“-I was tracing all the possible routes of escape. In my head. Should have been looking at my feet.”

His laughter was nervous at best, his left foot tapping incessantly again the concrete, the tick tick of time in his veins spurring him to go faster.

Bruce frowned, looking down at the small monitor display embedded in the suits wrist, his eyes scanned over a map of the area.

“You should be almost finished Flash. You can report back to base when over.”

He straightened up again, voice taking an authoritative tone as he took a few steps backward. Barry nodded enthusiastically, trying to shake off the cloudiness.

“Got it. I’ll be back as soon as-”

Barry’s stomach growled... loudly.

Like a full on rumble that echoed just perfectly in the near silent streets.

Barry froze, hoping that maybe the ears of the Batman cowl had blocked out that noise, or that Bruce had suddenly been struck with deafness. No such luck, as Bruce looked back at Barry, cocking his head.

“So maybe I was a little hungry.”

——

“Let’s go Barry.”

Bruce grumbled, walking swiftly ahead of Flash through the twists and turns of alleyways. Barry struggled to keep up, unusually, as his mind raced from one disastrous consequence to the next.

“Look this doesn’t happen often, but you guys were all so focused on the mission and I don’t remember the way to the pantry.”

“Your blood sugar should not be the reason why you can’t keep up.”

Barry huffed at that, rolling his eyes but closing them after a wave of dizziness overtook him. Maybe it was good to walk normally sometimes.

Bruce turned a corner, where a small window was starkly lit in contrast to the dark and empty street. Barry couldn’t quite read it, but there was a small sign by the windows shutters in coloured writing. Suddenly, the smell hit it.

“Wait... are those pancakes?”

Bruce glanced back at Barry, his scowl fading into a fond little smile at how Barry’s eyes widened at the deliciously sugary smell wafting from the window.

“You brought me to pancakes?”

Barry hopped onto the the other foot. His starved brain far too excited about food to be concerned with how immature he might look.

“They stay open later than all the others, I knew someone who was fond of a midnight snack like you are.”

The woman at the counter, who looked almost fifty in the warm lamplight, smiled up at Batman, pointing to the menu by the window shutters. 

“And technically they’re crepes, not ordinary pancakes. I first had a proper one in Paris.”

“Of course you did,” Barry gaped at the menu “Yeah, I’m having this one.”

He tapped the picture of the crepe lavished in chocolate sauce, he could practically taste the calories. Bruce nodded, speaking to the woman quietly and handing over some change. The faint sizzle of the pan was their only accompaniment.

“Predictable, but smart I suppose.”

“Pfft, one and only Batman, I need all the sugar I can get.”

The lady handed over a crepe wrapped in newspaper, and Bruce thanked her again- passing it over to Barry who was practically making grabby hands. The paper was warm, and a faint trail of steam twirled up from the crepe. He moaned slightly as he bit into the chocolate indulged crepe, a trail of liquid cocoa running down his chin.

“You’re my favourite, did you know that? Yep, definitely now.”

Bruce chuckled, watching as Barry devoured the sweet snack, his eyes lingered on how he sucked his thumb and fingers dry of the chocolate.

“Better?”

Barry nodded, crumpling up the paper in his hand into a tiny ball. Much better.

“No more stumbling, I got it. Thanks for this.”

Bruce smiled, rare, retreating more into the shadows as he surely had his own trail to follow.

“It’s not a problem. Next time you feel the same, call me.”

Barry heard the faint zip of a grappling hook, and then Batman disappeared into the raindrops. His stomach satisfied, Barry bummed as he stretched.

Yeah. Much better.

——

The aluminium foil rustled as Barry plucked out another crisp from the packet, crunching them as he studied the repairs Bruce had done on his suit. It lay prone on his bed, the scratches filled in and removed, some of the metallic joints replaced with something more flexible but equally strong.

Crunch. Another crisp, Barry licked the salt off his lip as he ran his fingers over the mask, across the chest and under the seams on his hips-

What the?

Did Bruce put a snack pouch on his belt?


End file.
